


Feeding Frenzy

by cheshirecat101



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom John, Canon Divergence - The Great Game, Feeding, Handcuffs, Kidnapping, Locker Room, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Succubi & Incubi, The Pool Scene, Top Jim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 17:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1275427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshirecat101/pseuds/cheshirecat101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this prompt from ChosenofAshurha:</p>
<p>"Jim Moriarty is an incubus, and he's hungry. He's drawn to John and his active libido, and begins to drain his life as he fucks him senseless."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feeding Frenzy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Johniarty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johniarty/gifts).



> Yeah, I have no excuse for this other than the prompt grabbed my attention and I've written about incubi before so it wasn't that big of a jump for me. Anyway, have some plotless smut in the middle of my porn odyssey.

Jim was so _hungry_. It hurt, at this point, a dull ache in his stomach that would suddenly sharpen at unpredictable intervals and couldn’t be assuaged by cold blood from blood packs stolen from the Red Cross. No, he was past that point by now; only the real thing would do, and if he didn’t get it soon, he was liable to collapse. There was a problem, however. That problem was that he was in a pool locker room with only a few people around, waiting for Sherlock Holmes to show up. Not exactly his usual hunting grounds, and not nearly enough options.

Well, really, he only had one. Sherlock was going to be here soon, but he felt no attraction to him and the man was apparently abstinent, possibly asexual, so no, he wasn’t an option. There was Sebastian, but again, no attraction. They had agreed that in an absolute emergency, Jim could feed on him, but he didn’t have to. Because there were a few other randoms there, some of his men, but there was also just one more person. One very important person. Special, actually, and not just because he was available for feeding. John Watson.

Oh, he looked so pretty like this, didn’t he? Tied up and waiting for Jim like a prize, still knocked out from the drugs in his system. If Jim was being completely honest, he’d already been considering the doctor as a mark. From what he’d seen during surveillance, John certainly had a healthy libido, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find the blonde attractive. As time went on, he’d started seeing John in a slightly different light. Less as Sherlock’s pet and more as…the spoils of victory. Something that would only sweeten the deal when he finally managed to beat Sherlock Holmes. It was such a delight, imagining taking John into his bed and breaking him down, molding him into something else for Jim’s pleasure.

Apparently he wouldn’t have to wait, because currently he was having an emergency and he was so damn _hungry_. He could eat an entire orgy, given the opportunity, but all he’d been given was John, and he would serve to settle that hunger long enough for Jim to get this whole showdown done and go home to have a proper meal. Though, who knew, maybe he’d be tempted to take John home with him as well.

It certainly seemed that way as he sat on the bench in front of John, who was sitting on the floor, watching him begin to rouse himself from sleep. John was still fully clothed and already Jim was almost salivating, dying to strip him down, take him apart, and _feed_. He’d never felt quite this strong of a need before, for anyone. It had to be the hunger talking, right? John was another ordinary person, about to become yet another victim, and Jim’s hunger was just dramatizing the situation, making him seem more appealing than he actually was. This would all fade if he could just eat already.

“Oh, Johnny boy,” he called softly in a lilting sing song. “Time to wake up and play…”

John stirred, head moving slightly from where it’d been, his chin against his chest. He opened blue eyes blearily, his vision hazy and confused for a minute as his head straightened up so he could look around. His eyes alighted on Jim and his brow furrowed deeper, confusion taking over his features. “You’re…” he started, somewhat dazedly, and Jim waved his hand, impatient. “Yes, yes, I’m Jim from IT, in actuality I’m Jim Moriarty, we’re waiting for Sherlock to get here so he and I can have a proper chat,” Jim said quickly, hoping to speed this whole realization process along. “You can look shocked and horrified now if you want.”

Instead, John’s demeanor changed entirely. He instantly sat straighter, putting his shoulders back and his head up, looking back at Jim with determined blue eyes. It was fascinating to watch, really, this thorough, but short transformation from civilian into soldier, John becoming Captain John Watson in the space of seconds. It wasn’t something Jim had seen the doctor do before, and he had to say it was the most interesting thing he’d seen him do yet.

“Oh, no need to look so cross,” Jim said, an amused smile on his lips. “You’re just a hostage, it could be worse.”

John didn’t even blink. “I consider being bound in front of a psychopath to be the worst place I could be right now.”

“Ohhhhh, never say things like that, Johnny boy. You never know what else could happen.” He smiled at John as the blonde’s brow dropped low over his eyes, a heavy caution coming into them. Good, he knew the danger he was in, then. He didn’t respond, however, and Jim stood, making his way over to him slowly, almost casually. The hunger in his stomach twisted painfully tighter with each step closer, until he was directly in front of John, the other man’s hands still bound behind him.

“Because you see,” he said, slowly reaching out to undo a button on John’s shirt, John instantly trying to flinch away from the contact and finding he had nowhere to go, “there are a few things you don’t know about me, John. Well, there are plenty of things you don’t know, but this one is rather important.” His hands continued, slowly unbuttoning John’s shirt though the other man was violently, futilely trying to move away from him. “Ever heard of the term incubus?”

John’s brow furrowed. “Isn’t that some sort of monster myth?” he asked, and Jim grinned.

“Oh, very good, pet! But not a myth, I’m afraid.” He finished with the buttons and spread John’s shirt and cardigan wide, running over the warm, newly exposed flesh with hands cold enough to make John shiver. “Sometimes we’re demons, sometimes we’re vampires, sometimes we’re a bit of both…interesting, isn’t it? What the myths get wrong? The ones where we visit people at night to feed on them is my favorite. We never _had_ to sneak in in the middle of the night, not since the Dark Ages. We’re designed specifically so that people will come to us willingly. Every good predator lures in their prey.”

John was looking up at him with those pretty, confused sapphire eyes, his mouth parted slightly, and Jim licked his lips slowly, taking in the sight along with the exposed, well-muscled plane of John’s chest that was now visible.

“What they get right, though,” he said, undoing his own belt buckle, and John’s eyes widened, “is that we feed off of lust. On sex and desire and all those sinful little thoughts most people never act on. Our version of feeding is your version of breeding, and honey, it’s so much better.” His fangs were descending of their own accord now, drawn out by the steady arousal that was building, the hunger clawing at his gut, and when John saw them, he truly started to panic. He thrashed on the ground, trying to move somewhere, anywhere, but Jim said, almost bored, “Seb.”

A minute later and John was lying on the ground, arms stretched above him and the chain of his handcuffs looped around one of the concrete poles in the changing rooms, his shirt and cardigan discarded and his chest completely bare for Jim’s roving hands. He easily straddled John, ignoring John’s attempts to buck or throw him off, using his weight and a teensy bit of supernatural strength to keep him in check.

He tsked, hands sliding back down John’s chest to his belt, fingers working to undo it. “There’s no use in struggling, love, I have you exactly where I want you, and you’re going to stay there because Daddy’s hungry and there’s no one I’d rather feed on.”

“You’re insane,” John said coldly, and Jim pretended to be shocked.

“Whatever would give you that idea?” he asked, and John replied, “Oh, I don’t know, the fact that you think you’re a supernatural creature, or maybe because you bloody _blew people up_.”

Jim pouted at that. “Only a few,” he said in a faux remorseful voice, like a child being scolded for taking sweets. “And I’m not a supernatural creature. Incubi are as natural as humans, you just don’t believe we exist.”

“Yeah, of course, what am I thinking,” John said, and Jim was pleasantly surprised that he was still snapping back with sarcasm despite the situation. Then again, the doctor had always been so brave under pressure, hadn’t he? “I’ve run into loads of incubi, I think a few are even friends of mine. Should I introduce you? You can start a support club.” Jim smiled pleasantly at him, then suddenly swooped in, stopping millimeters away from John’s warm, willing throat. He could hear John’s pulse pick up in response. “Don’t mock me, Johnny boy,” he breathed, and leaned in to lick a long, slow stripe up John’s neck, John turning his head away from him, to the side. John’s breathing had picked up, too, short, shallow breaths making their home in his chest, and Jim smiled at it, knowing he was breaking through that bravado John wore as a shield. He kissed his cheek ever so gently before straightening up again. John looked at him from the corner of his eye for a minute before slowly turning his head back to face him, pupils shrinking to nearly pinpricks at the danger of the situation. Jim’s widened in response, black expanding in a threat to take over his irises completely, and there was an obvious inhale from John. Oh yes, he was afraid now. Good.

“Believe me now?” Jim asked, baring his fangs for John to see, but John didn’t answer. “Oh, that’s alright, love. You’ll see soon enough.” His fingers went back to John’s jeans, undoing the button and fly as John jerked against his handcuffs, legs trying to kick under Jim’s weight holding them down. “Ah ah ah,” Jim said, tapping a finger to John’s lips as if scolding him. John tried to bite him in response, and Jim sighed, pulling his hand out of the way just in time. “I didn’t want to do this Johnny, but if you insist…”

He weaved his head from side to side like a snake moving through the grass, then suddenly struck, lunging for John’s neck to bite down. John cried out in pain, struggling underneath him again and trying to thrash his head around, but Jim merely grabbed ahold of the section of throat his fangs weren’t in and held him down, sucking _hard_. This had a dual effect; to start with, John settled a bit, his struggles tapering off as blood loss started to weaken him. That blood was replaced with the venom Jim was injecting him with, a special blend that helped him oh so much with unruly victims. It wasn’t much, really. It just made his victims a little less inhibited, a little more pliant. Easier to arouse and more susceptible to the pheromones that Jim put out, enticing them into a reciprocal arousal so he could feed off of their lust.

John seemed to react a little…differently. He calmed down, yes, as they usually did, his struggles slowly ceasing as the venom made him settle, but that wasn’t all. When he turned his eyes back to Jim, they looked surprisingly clear, not as hazy as his victims’ usually went, and he seemed calm, but not floating a mile high like they most often were at this point, some of the effects closer to Ecstasy than anything else. The most shocking part, however, was that John was canting his hips up slightly, _right towards Jim_ , his pupils beginning to expand in a sure sign of arousal.

Jim hadn’t had this happen before. They never reacted this quickly, never turned from fear to arousal in that short of a span of time, and it brought up some interesting questions.

“Have you been thinking about me, Johnny boy?” he asked, sliding his hand up John’s chest. John nearly shivered at the contact.

But he didn’t give him an answer, and that was another oddity. Usually his victims became open, honest, the truth easily falling from their lips as they eagerly obeyed his commands and answered his questions, but it seemed that John had a bit more fight in him than that. So on one hand, it seemed like the venom was affecting him quicker, and on the other hand, it seemed that it was affecting him less than usual. Strange, and fascinating.

But John seemed to be responding to his touch, arousal winning out over that stubborn streak that he was still clinging to, so he ran his hand back down John’s chest, using both of them to tug those pesky pants and trousers down and then off. Oh, yes, John was getting aroused, and rather quickly at that. His breathing was picking up now that he was exposed, laid completely bare for Jim and absolutely at his mercy. Jim discarded the good doctor’s pants and jeans in some unimportant direction, his attention still sharply focused on John as John’s pulse sped up again, audible to Jim’s enhanced senses.

“You wanted this already, didn’t you?” he said, looking at John with undisguised fascination. “Oh, you were definitely thinking about me, Johnny boy, it’s the only explanation. Does someone have a crush on Daddy?”

Predictably, he received no answer from John, and so he wrapped his hand, one finger at a time, around John’s cock, drawing a muffled noise from the other man. “Answer me,” he said, trying a different tone, this one layered with command, and he received a choked out, “Yes.”

He smiled. “Good boy,” he purred, slowly stroking his hand up John’s length and torturously drawing it back down again, John gasping. Oh, he was so pretty, wasn’t he? Those blue eyes, slowly being eclipsed by black. That lovely pink mouth, parted as he breathed. That pretty blonde hair, shifting shades as he turned his head. Those muscles fluttering underneath his skin, tightening in his abdomen with every breath.

_Hungry_.

He suddenly couldn’t stand it anymore, far too aroused and far too hungry and far too desperate. He could take his time with John some other time—if there was another time—but right now he needed to act fast. He unzipped his trousers, maneuvering them and his pants enough to free himself, cock heavy in his hand. John was watching him with those slowly darkening eyes and Jim felt a strange little thrill go through him at the sight. It was strange, how much the thought of John sincerely wanting him, even without the venom’s effects, pleased him. He _wanted_ John to want him, and not in the usual way he needed for his victims so he could properly feed on them. No, there was something else at work here, something different about John that seemed to add to hunger clawing at his insides, and damn if he knew what it was. Perhaps John wasn’t the only one who’d been fantasizing before this all began.

He took a bottle of lube off the bench, slicking up his fingers as John watched his every movement with those intent, dark eyes. There was already a hint of sex in the air and it was making him far too eager, the effort to concentrate becoming greater with every passing minute. But he was almost there. He just had to properly prepare John because although he was using him as food, he wasn’t going to damage him. Besides, what if he wanted to feed from him again sometime?

He slipped his hand down between John’s legs, noting how John automatically shifted his hips to make it easier for him to find his tight, puckered entrance, which he began circling with the tip of his finger, just gently at first, just trying to ease into the process. That thought went out the window, however, at a slight noise from John, an almost inaudible whine that he wasn’t sure he’d heard at first. When he paused in his motions, however, it was repeated, and he grinned, slowly beginning to work his index finger into John, one millimeter at a time. John couldn’t tense up when he was under the influence of the venom, his body kept relaxed and so open for Jim, ready and willing and just waiting to be fucked. It was always a heady feeling, knowing that the person underneath him was completely at his mercy, and better yet, willing to be that way.

He slowly worked his index finger in and out of John for a few minutes, loosening his body enough to add a second. Something briefly flitted across John’s face, a form of discomfort, but it was gone quickly and Jim began to move his hand around, searching for—oh, there it was. Any discomfort John had been feeling disappeared with a jolt of his hips, a gasp working its way between his lips, and Jim smirked as the other man moved down against his hand instinctively, searching for the same sensation again. A noise in the back of his throat indicated he’d found it again, but Jim teasingly pulled his fingers back, just enough that John had to rock down with more force to find them again. He continued like this for a minute, avidly watching John fuck himself on his fingers before the hunger twisted painfully and he nearly bit through his own lip.

It was the impetus he needed to turn two fingers into three, moving faster now as John’s muscles flexed in different places, abdomen tightening when he arched slightly off the ground, thighs tensing when Jim moved his fingers just so. John’s breathing was quick, eager now, and Jim gave a few last thrusts with his fingers to test him, John merely moaning when the tips brushed against his prostate. Finally, he withdrew his hand, slicking himself up and lining up the head of his cock with John’s prepared entrance. He paused, eyes trailing up John’s body, and smirked when John gave a desperate little wiggle of his hips, an invitation. Then he turned his gaze downward again, and slowly, ever so slowly, pushed in.

_Fuck_. He’d been prepared for a slight abatement of his hunger brought on by finally getting what he wanted. What he hadn’t been prepared for was how loud it roared instead, and how goddamn _good_ John felt. His mouth dropped open as his hips stilled, fully seated in John and taking a moment to both let John adjust and simply savor the sensation. Tight. Tight was the first word that came to mind, hot quick to follow, and _god_. John felt amazing. He hadn’t been prepared for the hunger to surge like this, his body nearly shaking with want and need and he couldn’t wait, the hunger was going to eat him whole if he didn’t move, now.

He slowly rolled his hips and god, moving was even better. “Oh, Johnny boy,” he breathed, eyes connecting again with John’s, finding them just as dark as before. “I had no idea Sherlock was hiding such a treasure. Tell me, has he been here before me?”

John shook his head, and Jim’s smile widened. “Oh, don’t tell me I’m the first…no, the military. Otherwise you wouldn’t be quite so easily persuaded into the idea, my powers or no.”

John didn’t answer and Jim changed the angle of his hips twice before finding the right one, John’s mouth opening in a breathless moan. Jim continued to move his hips, each thrust slow and deep, not quite the frenzied feeding he’d imagined. Now that he was actually in John he was overwhelmed by the need to savor him, to take his time in taking him apart no matter what the hunger roiling inside of him said. He began scenting along John’s neck, smelling the sex and pheromones on him and licking at his neck, the taste of sweat salty on his tongue , and John made a desperate little noise in the back of his throat that was absolutely delicious.

“Feed…”

Jim paused, his hips stilling for a moment as he listened. “What was that, Johnny boy?”

“Feed…on me…it’s what you want, isn’t it?” His voice was breathless, barely audible and Jim wouldn’t have heard him if they weren’t so close at the moment. “Get it…over with.”

Jim put on a face of surprise. “Oh, you’re still pretending you don’t want this, aren’t you? Well, Johnny boy,” he said, hand slipping down John’s leg, “a few things disagree with you.” He took a hold of John’s length and gently squeezed, John groaning and canting his hips up into the contact. He gave a few slow, experimental strokes, and John made a soft noise in his throat, not quite a plea for more. “But if you insist…”

He leaned in close, fangs extended to their fullest, and paused for a moment, just savoring the smell of John, the feel of being inside of him, every single point of wonderful contact between their bodies. And then he bit down.

The noise John made was somewhere between a cry of pain and a moan and Jim didn’t care which one it was, completely focused on the incredible feeling of finally being able to properly feed. His hips started up again, slow at first, then quickly gaining speed as he drank from John, John moaning weakly underneath him as he was drained of both blood and energy. Pretty soon he was snapping his hips into John, hitting a particular angle that made him keen as he disconnected from John’s neck again, licking at the wounds he’d created. Each thrust of his hips was like heaven, jolting John beneath him, Jim starting to pant both from the exertion and from the sheer amount of sensation he was experiencing, John so unbelievably tight and willing underneath him.

John, who was on the verge of passing out it seemed, Jim’s hunger having led him to taking more than he should have, and his movements became quick, sloppy, impatient, one hand beginning to stroke John in an effort to keep him in awareness so he could finish feeding. He got John off first, the other man coming with a gasp and coating his hand, and the feeling of John’s muscles clenching tight around him just before his climax had him nearly to the edge. He paused at the height of sensation, taking it all in; the scent of sex and lust in the air; the feel of John beneath him, one hand on his hip and the other roving wherever it could; the sheer sense of heady power that came with having his way with someone so strong, so soldierly, so ‘straight’ like John Watson. It only took a few more thrusts and a stutter of his hips to bring him to completion in John, finally reaching the high he’d been seeking and craving all evening.

He stayed still for a moment, panting and enjoying the sensations surrounding his sensitive, softening cock as well as the feeling of finally, unbelievably, being fed. Not full; oh no, that had just been enough to take the edge off, satisfy him enough to get through his meeting with Sherlock. The meeting. Shit. The last thing he wanted to do at the moment was pull out of John, get them both cleaned up and go and see Sherlock. He’d rather spend some quality time with John, who—who had apparently passed out underneath him.

“Johnny boy,” he called in a sing-song, gently slapping John’s cheek until those blue eyes fluttered open again. “Good boy. Come on, stay awake for Daddy now.”

John turned his head to the side again, exposing the lovely, almost hickey like mark Jim had left on his neck as his eyes closed again. So maybe John wasn’t going to be ready for the meeting after all. And honestly, Jim didn’t want to go anymore. He wanted to take John home and do all sorts of despicable things to him in bed, take him completely apart again and again and again until he was finally full. He wanted John to be his personal food supply. His personal courtesan.

He pulled out of him, tucking himself back away and zipping up his trousers as he stood up. “Seb,” he called out, and the man appeared a moment later. “Get Johnny cleaned up and put into my car. I think I’m going to go home and play with him instead of Sherly. Much more fun that way. Don’t you think, Johnny boy?”

John made something that might have been a noise of protest, possibly one of agreement, and Jim’s smile widened. “I thought so. Someone wants to spend some more quality time with Daddy. And Daddy’s still hungry.”


End file.
